Vulnerable
by Saoirse Mooney
Summary: What's happened to you, Ed? Why've you shrunk back into yourself so much? Why won't you tell me? What's made you think you can't?


Almost entirely bookverse, this is a missing scene from Chapter Two of _A Riddle, Wrapped In A Mystery_ that sees Caspian and Ed address the latter's emotional trauma, following his mistreatment by Pug  & Co., more directly. It acts as a sequel of sorts to that story, but also stands alone.

* * *

Ed's quarters are a matter of feet from your own, something you'd made sure of earlier. His negative reaction to recent events worries you and brings out your protective side, your need to protect Ed from any further harm. In order to do that, you need to be as close to him as possible. As you continue down the corridor, you reconsider whether your current plan makes the best sense. If he's in a room on his own, away from your sight and out of your hearing, how will you know if he needs you? The natural, obvious conclusion: 'a matter of feet' away is no longer close enough. Deciding, you steer Ed away from the door and towards your own rooms instead.

You close and lock the door behind you once you're both through it. The last thing you need from anybody now is an interruption, however well meant. And with the outside world locked out, the two of you of you are, at last, alone. Moving further into the room, you follow Ed across towards chairs placed near the fire. You don't want to take your eyes off him for any reason until you must.

This is the first time you've been in a situation like this and so you're working almost entirely on instinct. You're terrified in equal measure of getting it wrong, and of what it means for Ed if you do.

 _What should I do? Maybe touching him will help._

Neither of you quite makes it to the chairs before you're reaching out to touch Ed on the shoulder, trying to close the physical _and_ emotional gap between the two of you. He shivers under your fingers for a second or two before he shrugs off your hand and, throwing you a look you can't quite decipher, moves to put distance between you.

 _By the Lion, surely he doesn't think_ I'd _hurt him?_ Shocked at the thought, your mouth runs ahead of your brain and you blurt something out without thinking.

'Ed? Are you all right?'

 _That helps. Idiot._

Other than a quick shake of the head, he doesn't answer. In silence, you curse your insensitivity. It's been obvious since you found him in Narrowhaven that something is very wrong with Ed; would he have closed himself off from everyone, even his sister, if he were all right? This is why you're trying to help him confide in you. You need to have this conversation, because it isn't good for Ed to be in this state, and you have to start somewhere. Ed turns his head towards you, which makes you think he's still receptive to you, but he doesn't quite look you in the eye.

This behaviour, coming from Ed, is unusual. You haven't seen the like since you first met him, before you became to each other what you now are, and this recent relapse worries you. This Ed is nothing like the man you _know_ he is _,_ given how much the connection between the two of you, already close, has deepened since he returned to you.

 _What's happened to you, Ed? Why've you shrunk back into yourself so much? Why won't you tell me? What's made you think you can't?_

Your mind in turmoil, turning over these questions and more as if doing so will make workable answers appear by magic, you take a slow step towards Ed, and then another, as if he were a cornered wild animal. Keeping eye contact with him as much as possible, you make sure not to make any sudden movements. But you keep moving until you are almost close enough to touch him, and only then do you try again to strike up conversation.

 _With luck_ , _this will work better than it did last time_.

'Edmund,' you say, careful to keep your tone soft and unthreatening. 'Ed. I don't want you ever to think there are things you can't tell me. You can tell me anything; anything at all. You know that, yes?'

That's a better start; it gets Ed's attention, too, for a moment. His eyes lock on yours and, like before, you get the impression there's something in his expression you're missing. He nods his head again but says nothing. This time, he moves towards you; the space between you, already small, narrows further and gives you an idea.

'Ed, is it all right to touch you?'

He nods.

You slide one hand around his waist and let a gentle pull remove the rest of the distance between you; your other hand cups his jaw as your thumb caresses his cheek. Ed shivers and closes his eyes at the contact, leaning into you, and turns his face into your neck where it meets your shoulder. Your hand moves from his cheek to slide into his hair, and a moment or two later you feel wetness against your skin: tears.

You tighten your arm around him and use the hand in his hair to trace patterns on his scalp with your fingers.

'Ed,' you say, your tone soft, tender, and full of your love for him, 'I can see you're hurting. Won't you let me in and let me help you?'

When Ed hears this, something inside him seems to break. He starts shaking, ugly sobs tearing from his throat, and the dampness on your shoulder increases as the tears continue. Your heart contracts in sympathy and you feel guilty about how little you can do to help him other than be there, hold him, and try to ground him. You move your hand from his hair to rest on his back and use it to tuck him closer in against you.

'I don't want to think about it any more,' he says, stuttering out the words. His voice is fragile, muffled against your shoulder, but its tone is full of pain, sadness, and a hint of what might be fear. 'All I want to do is forget it ever happened. Can you help me do that?'

Your hand moves to tilt his face up so you can meet his eyes.

'Yes,' you say, because there's no way you're choosing to say anything else to him. When Ed hears this, you feel him relax against you at last, and you're left hoping this means the last you'll see of the deep reserve that worries you so much. Not for your sake, but for his.

'Yes,' you say again, following up with a gentle kiss, brushed over his lips. 'Of course I can. I'd do anything for you. All you ever had to do was ask.'


End file.
